


Happy Hot Dog Dance

by Powerfulweak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dancing Hot Dog!Dean, Fluff, M/M, Weiner Hut AU, fast food au, prompt fil, wee bit of pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:32:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4325049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Powerfulweak/pseuds/Powerfulweak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a normal day for Dean, handing out flyers while wearing a hot dog suit. The man sobbing in his arms though... That's new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Hot Dog Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt from Gracelesscas: "AU destiel in which Dean works in a fast-food diner wearing a hot-dog costume and giving pamphlets and that's how he meets Castiel, who was having a really bad week and started to have kinda a breakdown looking at the pamphlet Dean gave him. So Dean is like '??? wtf dude' but then he decides to cheer Cas up dancing in his giant embodiment of a sausage. I mean, rocking the sausage metaphorically. You know."
> 
> Crossposted on [tumblr](http://powerfulweak.tumblr.com/post/123891344740/you-are-taking-promts-thats-so-great-maybe)

It’s Tuesday; Dean’s day to wear the hot dog suit.

Dean knows what to expect. He’ll sweat his ass off for a few hours, dancing around as a foam rubber hot dog, handing out flyers for Garth’s Weiner Hut. This isn’t Dean’s first rodeo.

Aside from the swamp ass, being in the suit isn’t that bad: Garth usually comps him a bacon chili dogs for lunch while his co-worker Gabriel tries to make him laugh with crude jokes involving the words “weiner” and “footlong.” If Dean’s really lucky, he might even get a couple phone numbers from flirtatious ladies (or dudes… Dean’s not picky).

The man sobbing in his arms, though… That’s new.

He doesn’t know what happened: one second he was offering the guy a coupon for a buy one, get one free on all Chicago-style hot dogs, the next second the man’s too-blue eyes welled up with tears and he was crying hysterically.

“Sir,” Dean tries shaking the man’s shoulder. “Sir, are you ok?” It’s a stupid question, but Dean is at a loss for anything else to say. The man hiccups and whimpers something unintelligible before dissolving in another fit of sobs. Dean glances around, wondering if anyone else is seeing this.

“Sir, do you need me to call someone?” He asks, trying to shift the guy off of his shoulder, or approximately where a hot dog’s shoulder would be. He takes another quick glance around before guiding the man to a nearby bench, sitting him down. There’s only one thing Dean can think of to do and, if it works on small children, it might work on this guy.

“You know what? You look like you could use the happy hot dog dance.” The man sniffs pathetically and stares at Dean in confusion. His eyes widen in surprise, though, as Dean starts breaking it down in the middle of the sidewalk, shaking his ass and making the entire costume bounce along with it. Dean doesn’t have a lot of dance moves, but he’s learned that if he at least looks like he’s having fun, people seem to like it. By the time he flops to the ground, attempting to do the worm, the man has stopped crying and Dean sees the first hints of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Yo Dean-o!” He stops abruptly as Gabriel pops his head out of the front door. “What’s going on out there man? You look like you’re being electrocuted or something.” Dean gets to his feet and and waves for Gabriel to come outside.

“Would you please take over for me?” He asks as he begins to remove the hotdog suit. Gabriel gives an annoyed groan.

“Dude, I was in the suit all day yesterday,” he whines.

“Gabriel!” Dean snaps, tilting his head to the guy, still hiccuping from crying. “Just do this for me, please.” Gabriel gives a petulant sigh, but takes the costume from Dean as he shuffles the man inside the restaurant.

* * *

 

It takes 15 minutes and a large triple chocolate shake, but the guy (Castiel, Dean learns) finally opens up about what happened.

“Chicago,” he admits. “That’s what set me off.”

“Chicago?” Dean raises an eyebrow.

“My… well, my now-ex is in Chicago. Going to school there. We’ve been doing the long distance thing for... three months almost. I was supposed to be moving there yesterday, too.” Castiel rubs at his bloodshot eyes. “Then, I received a text message this morning telling me that the relationship ‘was at a standstill’ and we should break up.” There is a long pause and Castiel takes a long drink of his shake, tamping down another sniff.

“Shit, man,” Dean mumbles. Getting dumped is bad enough, but doing it by text message… that was just cold.

“Yeah,” Castiel agrees, drawing invisible circles in the formica tabletop with his fingernail. “I’m… affected by it.”

“Obviously,” Dean says. “Dude, your ex-girlfriend sounds like a bitch.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Castiel corrects, causing Dean to perk up minutely. “But you’re right: he’s an asshole.” Castiel shakes his head and gives a caustic snort.

“Thank you,” he continues after a moment. “For, um, trying to cheer me up. It helped actually.” Castiel looks up at Dean with a genuine smile and Dean can’t help returning it.

“Anytime,” Dean says.

“I… I, um, don’t have a lot of people I can talk to about this…” Castiel looks down at the table nervously. “So, thanks for that too.”

“Do you have a cell phone?” Dean asks.

“Uh… no,” Castiel shakes his head. “I might’ve thrown it out of my apartment window earlier.” Dean has to bite back a chuckle. He reaches over and takes the crumpled Flyer from Castiel, turning it over. He glances toward the cash register, catching Alfie’s eye and pantomiming for a pen until he throws one toward Dean.

“Well, when you get a new phone, if you ever need to talk, day or night,” Dean says as he scratches down his cell number. “Call me, ok?” He hands the paper back to Castiel who eyes it suspiciously. Dean sighs and shakes.

“I’m not trying to come on to you.” he says, although he’d be lying if he hadn’t noticed that Castiel is pretty cute when he’s not a bawling mess. “I just don’t want to see you breaking down on any restaurant mascots anymore. Caspice?” Castiel smiles and nods.

“Caspice,” he agrees. They sit there, talking for another 20 minutes until Gabriel trudges back into the restaurant, insisting that Dean take over.

“You going to be ok?” Dean asks for about the tenth time. Castiel gives a small nod.

“Yeah, I think so. Thanks for this,” he says, lifting the milkshake. “and this.” He waves the flyer.

“Anytime,” Dean replies. As he watches Castiel walk out of the restaurant, he catches Gabriel staring at him with a shit-eating grin.

“What?” Dean huffs, taking the hog dog suit from him.

“You two are going to have the cutest story to tell your kids,” Gabriel beams, scampering away just as Dean tries to throw a pen at him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Dean mutters, but there’s no anger in his words. He slips the suit back on and heads outside, deep down hoping that there’s a small chance Gabriel might be right.

* * *

 

Dean is more than a little surprised when Castiel calls a few days later.

“You said anytime, so…” Castiel trails off. “I mean if you are busy or something-”

“No, not at all,” Dean says, sitting up on the couch and hitting pause on Halo. He can hear Charlie yelling at him through the headset just as he tears it off his head. “What’s up?”

The conversation starts slow, but it doesn’t take long for everything to start pouring out of Castiel. His ex Bartholomew sounds like a real piece of work and by the time Cas is yawing into the phone and bidding him a goodnight, Dean is ready to drive out to Chicago and punch the guy in the nuts himself.

Castiel calls pretty regularly after, in addition to texting. Sometimes, Castiel runs the conversation, venting and working out his demons. Most of the time, thought, they just bullshit about their days.

“I hope you don’t mind me occupying all of your time like this,” Castiel says one evening as Dean’s making his dinner. “I seem to go on and on endlessly-”

“Please, you listen to my crap just as much. Remember, last week and all that bullshit with Gabriel and the pickles in my shoes.” Dean reminds him. “Besides, that’s what friends are for, right?” There is a long pause on the other end of the line.

“Friends?” Cas asks. Dean stops stirring the spaghetti sauce, worried by Cas’ hesitation.

“Yeah, man, we’re friends.” _We are, aren’t we?_ Dean thinks.

“Thank you, Dean,” he replies after a moment. “Yes, we’re friends. Very good friends, I think.” Dean smiles to himself. Friends. Friends are good.

* * *

 

Dean is fine with being friends with Castiel. Perfectly fine. The guy came out of a pretty serious relationship only a few months ago and he’s nowhere near ready to move forward. Even if he was, Dean would end up being a rebound relationship at best, and he doesn’t want that.

Does Dean think Castiel is attractive? Definitely, but he cares for Cas as a person too. He’s not willing to risk their current standing, just because Cas’ smile gets his heart racing a little faster or he looks forward to Cas’ “good morning” and “good night” texts. Being friends with the guy is not a consolation prize.

Dean tells himself this everytime he and Cas hang out. He has to constantly remind himself because it would just be _so easy_ to give in to his heart and reach out for Cas’ hand or brush his fingers over his jawline. Dean knows to keep the boundaries up; when Cas is ready to move on, he’ll give a sign.

* * *

 

“I’m thinking about asking someone out,” Cas says one evening while he and Dean are playing Call of Duty. Dean’s caught so off-guard, a sniper catches him with a headshot.

 _Well, there’s the sign, I guess,_ Dean thinks.

“That’s, uh, that’s great Cas,” Dean mumbles as his character regenerates at the checkpoint. “You have someone in mind?”

“Yeah, I do,” the corner of Cas’ mouth curls up in a smile and Dean feels sick that someone else was the cause of it.

“Guy? Girl?” Dean asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Guy.”

“Do I… uh, know him?” Cas’ eyes flick to Dean briefly and then back to the screen.

“Yeah, I think you might,” he says. Dean feels his blood pressure rising and wants to scream at Castiel _“Who?”_

“You don’t think it’s a little soon?” Dean suggests, earning a snort of Cas.

“It’s been six months. It’s time for me to move on, right?” Cas glances at Dean, who is trying hard not to visibly grind his teeth.

“Yeah man, sure,” Dean hits pause on the game and gets to his feet. “I’m getting a beer. You want one?” Dean is out of the living room before Cas even has a chance to answer. He opens the fridge, allowing his forehead to rest on the cool open door. He stares listlessly inside the fridge while mentally repeating his mantra of _“Friends is good. Friends is fine.”_

“Dean?” He hears Cas as he enters the kitchen. “You alright?” Dean reaches into the fridge, grabbing a beer at random, before turning to Cas.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Dean says with a false smile. Cas easily spots the lie.

“Did I do something wrong?” Cas tilts his head to the side and takes a step toward him. “You seem like your pissed off at me-”

“I’m not pissed at you,” Dean replies honestly. He gives a heavy sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “Look, whoever this guy is… he better not be an asshole, ok? I don’t want you sobbing on my shoulder again. You only get the happy hot dog dance once. That’s it.” A strange smile spreads across Castiel’s expression. Dean begins to realize that this thing for Castiel is more than just a crush or a little jealousy. He’s kind of in love with the guy.

“He better not break your heart,” Dean warns, a wave of regret washing over him.

“I don’t think he will,” Castiel mumbles. Without warning, Castiel steps forward, cupping a hand around the back of Dean’s head and pulling him in for a passionate kiss. Dean freezes in surprise for a second, then melts into the feeling of Castiel’s lips moving over his. Cas is enthusiastic, his tongue eagerly dipping into Dean’s mouth. Dean’s hands tense and flex at his sides before finding their way to Cas’ hip, tugging his body closed. Castiel pulls back first, cheeks are flushed a little and eyes bright.

“It’s you, dummy,” he mumbles, licking at his lips. Dean blinks in surprise for a second before a laugh bubbles up through his chest and he pulls Castiel in for another kiss.


End file.
